I woke up this morning, 26 and a half years old, on the 2nd day of 2016 to a very vivid insight into my future.
Currently house and cat sitting for a friend I woke up alone in someone else’s bed, and thought I’d take my morning’s pleasure into my own hands (if you know what I mean). As I slipped my hand under the sheets I was suddenly joined in bed by a beautiful eyed young man – a half Bengal cat named Chairman. Chairman settled himself on my chest and lay there for a good fifteen minutes while I stroked him instead. Before long, having got what he needed from me, and he jumped off and went searching for food.
This more or less sums up my relationship with men for the last 12-24 months.
To be clear. This is not another blog about love. This is not another blog about sex, or relationships, nor am I Bridget Jones. I don’t hate my body or my life, and I am not on some misguided mission to find a soul mate.
I don’t smoke, I enjoy exercise (almost as much as I enjoy complaining about it) and I love sex. But that isn’t what this is about.
The choices I’ve made in the last few years have been very deliberate choices to make sure I remain alone. Most of the time, I know its the right choice for me. But the image of being alone in bed with a cat and vibrator at the age of 50 becomes brighter and clearer all the time. Worse, I think, the closer you are to 30 the clearer and brighter it becomes.
As women, we are hardwired to think there are windows in which we deserve to be happy, and if we let those windows close we’ve lost that chance at being happy.
Some of this is biological of course. But I don’t want children, so why do I still feel the pressure?
Society, by and large, has no problem with 40 year old married women with children who are unhappy. But they do have a problem with 40 year old unmarried women with no children. There’s this assumption they’re unhappy despite no evidence to say so. That they have regrets, or “what ifs”. Or worse again…that there’s something wrong with them that nobody wants them.
What is so grating for me, is women who tell me I will have regrets if I don’t change my attitude. I can say I don’t want children and that I don’t want to get married until I’m blue in the face. But they just grin that smug grin and say “you just haven’t met the right person yet”
Maybe I’m the right person for me. Why does my life happiness have to be dependent on meeting a man? On getting married, and having children?
Yes, I feel the pressure to want it, and its at constant war with my lack of desire for it. I am in constant fear of meeting someone who might actually be right for me, because what if those women are right? What if I meet someone and everything I’ve believed in and wanted since I was a child goes out the window?
Just yesterday, I told a guy who I connected with, who I liked and had heaps in common with, that I wasn’t interested. I told him it was because I wasn’t ready to date yet. I told myself it was because he is cavalier with his drug use, and I’m not into that. Both of those may be true. It also may be true that I recognised him to be someone I could really be with, so I ran.
Instead I wait for a message from boys I know are only interested in having sex with me, because its easier that way.
Right now, I don’t want true love. I don’t want forever. Most of the time, I am OK with that. But that hardwired ticking clock…just keeps ticking.
Forever isn’t for everyone.
Is forever for you?
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